


do the stars with you

by bemusedlybespectacled (ardentintoxication)



Category: Set It Up (2018)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Dorks in Love, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Vaginal Sex, so much sap you could boil it and put it on pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentintoxication/pseuds/bemusedlybespectacled
Summary: Harper and Charlie make plans for the weekend, feat. The Dorkiest Sex Known To Man.





	do the stars with you

Dating Charlie is surprisingly not that different from not-dating Charlie. Well, okay, it's a little different, because neither of them are assistants anymore and have actually normal working hours for once in their adult lives, but the feeling's pretty much the same. He’s still detoxing from being a corporate shill. And sometimes he forgets that not everyone shares his incredibly small reference pools, like owning exotic pets or doing crew in college. And he’s unbelievably dorky, and a really good listener, and sometimes does stupid romantic things for no reason.

Like today, where he’s standing outside her building after she gets out of work. With flowers.

“You have to stop doing this,” Harper says.

“Doing what?” Charlie asks.

“Stupidly romantic things! I can’t compete with it! I’m going to have to do an even more stupidly romantic thing to make up for it, except I can’t, because this is Peak Cute. This is– this is a _trade deficit of cuteness._ ”

“Jeez,” Charlie says, “it’s just flowers.”

“Shhh, let me bask in this moment,” Harper says, pretending to waft cuteness energy towards herself. “I got _flowers._ ”

“I did have other plans besides the flowers,” Charlie says.

“Ooooh, _plans_ ,” Harper says. She links her arm in his and walks with him towards the subway. “What kinds of plans?”

“So you know how I’m temping at that law office?”

“The paralegal thing?”

“Yeah. Well, I might not be temping for them anymore.” Charlie grins. “They asked me to stay on.”

“That’s _great!”_ Harper says.

“ _So_ ,” Charlie adds, “I thought we should celebrate. Go out or something.”

“Or we could get pizza and watch Netflix in my apartment. Becca’s out touring venues all weekend so it’s just me.”

“That also works and is more in line with my current financial situation.”

“Did I ruin your plans?”

“Well, when I said ‘plans,’ I meant more like ‘vague ideas’...”

* * *

Adults can watch a movie all the way through without getting distracted by carnal impulses, because adults, unlike teenagers, can control their raging biological urges and have some kind of attention span.

Harper, however, has never claimed to be an adult in her life, and waits until there’s a boring quiet part in between explosions to climb onto Charlie’s lap and make out with him. Charlie, thankfully, does not protest the change in plans, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him.

Which makes it really obvious that he’s hard right now.

So the thing is, even though they’ve known each other for months and have been dating for a couple weeks at this point, they haven’t actually had sex. Well, obviously they’ve had sex with other people (Charlie more than Harper, but not by a huge amount), but not with _each other._ With Golf Guy, she’d just wanted to have sex at all, period, and didn’t care how soon it was. But with Charlie, she’s been waiting for a good time.

And this feels like a good time.

“Sooooo…” Harper says, pausing in their makeout session. “There’s a bed. In my bedroom. Beds… are things.”

“Beds _are_ things,” Charlie says.

“We could go and do things _on_ the bed.”

“We _could_ ,” Charlie says. “Is that, uh, something you’d want to do?”

“Well, I did bring it up.”

“Right, right.” And this is where Harper’s actually kind of glad he did crew in college, because he pulls her into a sitting position on his lap and then just. Stands up. Harper clings to to him like a monkey, her legs locked around his hips and her hands on his shoulders. “Okay,” he says, “point me to the bedroom.”

Harper cackles and points vaguely in the direction of her room. Charlie walks towards the bedroom, opens the door, and stumbles on a sweatshirt she left on the floor.

“Ohmygod don’t drop me!”

“I’m not, I’m not–”

He wobbles a few more steps to the bed and then drops her on the bed, landing heavily on top of her.

“Well,” Harper says to the ceiling, “the caveman thing was really sexy but you didn’t stick the landing. Seven point five stars.”

“I feel like I deserve at least half a point for negotiating the obstacle course that is your bedroom.”

“Fine. Eight stars.”

“Respectable.” He’s still on top of her. And now he’s _looking_ at her, in that soft way he does sometimes. Like she’s really cool or something. She reaches out a hand and pulls him down to her; she doesn’t think she’ll ever get sick of kissing him. Then his lips are moving away from hers, up her jawline to the shell of her ear. She didn’t even know ears could be a sexy thing but... _shit_.

“Charlie.”

“Hmm?”

“Close the door.”

“Oh, shit,” he says. “Sorry, sorry!” He gets up and closes the door, and locks it for good measure.

“No problem,” she says. “I just, kind of wanted to take clothes off without us being able to be seen from the living room. In case Becca comes back early or something.”

“Maybe some people _like_ wildly inappropriate public sex,” he says, mock indignantly. “Did you think of that? Huh?”

“I’m kinkshaming.”

“How dare you.”

He gets on the bed properly this time, and Harper scooches back to make room. She reaches for his shirt and undoes the buttons one at a time, waiting until it’s off entirely to run her hands down his chest. “S _hit_ ,” she says. “You’re like a statue. Like a monument to frat guys.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You should take your pants off.”

“Right, doing that,” Charlie says, standing up again. He stops midway through undoing his fly. “Wait, why am _I_ taking them off?”

“Because your salmon shorts are a travesty and I’m not sullying myself by touching them.”

“They’re not _salmon_ , they're  _melon_.” And now there’s a hot guy in his underwear in her room. Not just a hot guy. _Charlie_ is in his underwear in her room.

Harper pats the empty space next to her. “Get over here so I can make out with you.”

“Yes, _ma’am_.”

Okay, that’s a little hot.

On her side like this, next to him on the bed, it’s easier for her to kiss him. She runs her hand through his hair, fingers splayed, then brings them together to very gently pull. Charlie makes a little noise when she does that, kind of a groany thing in the back of his throat, and she thinks she wants to hear him make that sound a lot more often.

One of his arms is under her, supporting her, but the other hand is keeping a respectable distance by resting on her still-clothed thigh. She lets go of his hair to find his hand, then pulls it up so it’s under her shirt. Under her bra, even.

“Can I – mph – can I take this off?” Charlie asks, tugging a bit on her bra.

“Uh, yeah,” Harper says, “lemme–”

“No, I got it,” Charlie says, and reaches behind her and undoes her bra with one hand.

Harper freezes. “How the fuck did you do that.”

“Magic.”

“No, seriously, how.”

“Lots of practice. Also, they’re little hooky things, how hard can it be? What, you can’t do it?”

“Not one handed!”

Charlie looks very proud of himself. Harper kisses him again, partly to get him to stop being so smug but mostly because she wants to go back to doing what they were doing. She reaches down to start taking her pants off – she should have done this while he was taking _his_ pants off, _fuck_ – and gets them halfway down her legs before his hand is on her boob and he’s doing a twisty thing around her nipple with his fingers.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes, Charlie, that’s what ‘oh fuck’ means.”

“It could have been a _bad_ ‘oh fuck.’”

“Well, it’s not, so feel free to keep doing that.”

She shimmies her pants the rest of the way off and kicks them off the bed – Charlie does not, thank God, stop doing what he’s been doing – and then reaches for the hem of her shirt.

“Uh, hold on, lemme just–” Harper scooches over so she doesn’t elbow Charlie in the face, then pulls her shirt off over her head and throws it on the floor in the vague direction of where her jeans went. Her bra lands in the same pile.

She turns back. It occurs to her that, except for their underwear, this is the first time they’ve seen each other naked. It’s not that they’ve never had sex ever, obviously, but it’s still the first time they’ve had sex with _each other._ Harper has a sudden, wild fear that she is going to forget how sex works.

She must have projected that on her face because Charlie frowns and says, “Hey. You okay?”

“I think I forgot how sex works.”

He mercifully does not laugh at her. “Okay?”

“I’ve had it, like, one time? I mean, okay, technically three times but the first time doesn’t really count because gay, and the other time was with Becca but it’s kind of not applicable to this situation, you know? So technically the only time I’ve had sex was the one time with Golf Guy.”

“You had sex with Becca?”

Harper slaps his chest. “Before you ask, no. No hot bi threesomes. We dated for like three seconds in college and figured we were better as friends. And this is all irrelevant to the fact that I don’t think I know how I’m supposed to have sex.”

Charlie adopts a musing expression. “Well,” he says, leaning over to kiss her on the shoulder, “Technically there isn’t a ‘supposed to’? _And_ ,” he says, moving her a bit so she’s facing him, “even if you’d had sex with fifty other people, you wouldn’t know how I like it, and I wouldn’t know how you like it.”

“Yeah,” Harper says, calming down a bit. “That makes sense.”

“So,” Charlie says, “I think we’re okay. And we’ll tell each other if we’re not, right?”

“Right,” Harper says, a bit breathlessly, because his hand is on her boob again and it feels really, _really_ good. She kisses him, hard and deep, and his fingers tug on her nipple just as she slips her tongue into his mouth. He makes that little noise again, and Harper thinks, _Score._

Charlie moves down to make out with her neck again, and pauses in his explorations to ask, “What’s your hickey policy?”

“Uh, I like neck kisses but it’s summer so I can’t wear scarves and I’m not good enough with makeup to cover them up, so that’s a no go right now. What about you?”

“I wear button-ups to work so literally anything below the collar is fair game.”

“ _God_ , you’re hot,” she says, and lifts her head to suck a dark, deep bruise into his collarbone.

The noise he makes when she does that – a breathless gasp – is so great that she picks another spot, a little higher, so she can hear it again. His arms are shaking a little, trying to hold himself up, so Harper guides him down so she’s on top and bites him, very gently, right at the pulse point on his neck.

“ _Fuck_ ,” says Charlie. “Harper–”

“Yeah?”

“Can we–” He rolls his hips.

“Oh, right. Uh, condoms. Condoms, condoms–” She can reach the nightstand from where she’s sitting on top of him, and still has a bunch left over from when she was dating Golf Guy.

Or maybe not.

“Hold on,” she says, and gets off of Charlie to reach for the bottom drawer. Her Hitachi is in there, and her lubes, and– “Ha, ha! Knew it was in there somewhere.” She holds up the box triumphantly, then pulls a condom out and puts the rest on top of the nightstand. “Okay,” she says, “let’s do this.”

Charlie takes his boxer briefs off for her, and she peels her panties off and throws them on the floor. With careful precision and expertise gained from watching a lot of Youtube videos, she unwraps the condom, pinches the tip, and rolls it down his length.

“So, uh, how do you want to do this?” Charlie asks. “Missionary style, spooning, Downward Lotus–?”

“Is Downward Lotus a thing?”

“Yes, absolutely, it’s the seventh tantric Super Saiyan– actually I just made that up and I can’t believe you fell for it.”

“Oh.” She giggles, covering her face with her hands to hide her sudden, absurd blush.

Charlie laughs. “Your _face!_ ”

“Shut _up!_ ” She tries to calm herself down, but she’s still giggling as she says, “Uh, back to that… I like cowgirl, I think?”

“Okay, I just want you to know that you look _really_ cute right now,” Charlie says, which only makes her blush harder. “But yeah, sure, cowgirl’s fine, we can do cowgirl, can you please touch my dick before I explode oh my God–”

She wraps her hand around his cock firmly and whatever he was going to say dissolves into a moan. Then she straddles him, lines him up with her –  _like putting in a tampon_ , she thinks wildly – and oh God he’s inside her.

She didn’t even need _lube_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harper says.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” she says, in a kind of daze. “Don’t– don’t move yet.”

“Okay,” says Charlie, but it’s kind of strained.

She leans over until she’s hovering over him, her hands on either side of his face, and kisses him again, deeply, sweetly. With tongue. She breaks the kiss, looks deeply into his eyes, and says, “Okay, you can move now.”

“Thank _God_ ,” Charlie says fervently. He starts slow, grinding against her in slow circles, but he quickly speeds up, holding her hips to keep her in place.

Like this, she can see his face, and she doesn’t feel squished like she does in missionary. His hair’s kind of fluffy right now, like how he gets when he’s really tired or forgets to style it in the morning, and he’s got that soft-eyed look again. She smooths his hair back from his forehead, and he smiles at her.

He reaches up to touch her boobs some more, and bends his head so he can suck one nipple into his mouth. Harper makes a high-pitched squeal in the back of her throat. “Oh my God keep doing that,” she says, and pushes her chest forward a little so it’s easier for him to reach. Her hips are moving of their own accord, meeting his as he thrusts deep into her, and she reaches down to rub her clit. Hot sparks gather between her legs and _fuck_ it feels good.

“Uh, Harper–” Charlie says, letting go of her nipple. He sounds a little panicked. “I’m really close. Can I–?”

“Oh, my God, _yes_ ,” Harper says, a little exasperated but also a little more turned on, if that’s even possible, “of course you can, come on, come in me–”

His thrusts get really fast for a minute, then more erratic, stuttering for a bit. And then Charlie makes that breathless sound again, and she wants to hear it every day for the rest of her life. His hips start to slow, and then he stops, and lets out a sigh like he just ran a marathon. “Holy shit,” he says.

“Yeah,” Harper says.

She doesn’t really want to let him out of her, but she knows that she has to get the condom off before he gets soft and it starts leaking. Reluctantly, she rolls off of him to lie next to him on the bed.

“Whew,” she says. “That was– whew.”

“Yeah,” Charlie says, taking the condom off and knotting it like the world’s weirdest balloon. “Where’s your–”

She points. “Trash can’s over there.”

“Right.”

He tries to throw it from across the room. It bounces off the the wall and lands directly in the trash can. “Yes!”

“That’s a solid three points.”

Charlie laughs. Then he rolls over and looks at her weirdly seriously. “Did you– no, you didn’t.”

“It’s okay.”

“It is _not_.” Charlie moves so he’s hovering over her again, and kisses the line of her throat. “I want to make this good for you.”

“Then, uh,” Harper says, “could you go down on me?”

Charlie doesn’t answer; he just grins at her and then moves towards the end of the bed. Harper scoots up so there’s more room for him, but he catches one of her legs and holds it so he can kiss the inside of her knee. Then his head’s moving down and Harper grabs his hair on reflex. Charlie makes an appreciative noise, and she matches it with a noise of her own. His mouth feels _so good_ , and she doesn’t have to tell him where her clit is or anything, and she was already really close before they had to stop.

She bucks her hips up to meet his mouth, and for a while her whole awareness shrinks down to _yes please tongue more yes_. Then she says, “Can you– with your hands–” and he stops just long enough to press his fingers inside her,  _yes right there_ and Harper lets out one involuntarily loud noise before she presses her hand against her mouth and screams into it as she comes.

Charlie’s still moving, and she reaches down and grabs his hand. “Stopstopstop, I’m good– _fuck._ ”

Charlie does stop, and takes his fingers out of her very carefully. “Good?”

“I can’t feel my face.”

“Please tell me that means ‘good’ and not ‘oh God I gave my girlfriend a stroke.’”

Harper laughs. “Yes, you egomaniac. It means ‘good.’”

“Awesome. Uh, do you have anything I can wipe my hand off on, before we cuddle?”

“Towel in my laundry hamper?”

“That’ll work.”

Harper’s starting to fall asleep. Charlie gets into bed with her, and she turns so that she can look at him. His eyes look really green right now, and there’s a big purple bruise forming on his neck. She _did_ that.

“Hey, Charlie?”

“Hmm?”

“I have plans for this weekend.”

“Are they ‘stay in bed all day and have marathon sex’? Because that was my plan.”

“Perfect. Our schedules are all synced up, then.”

They’re both giggling now, and when Charlie wheezes, “I love you so much,” in between the laughing, it feels less like a revelation and more an affirmation of what they both already know.

**Author's Note:**

> Title's from "Romeo and Juliet" by Dire Straits, which is the song that's playing when Harper and Charlie are slow-dancing at Becca's engagement party.
> 
> For a visual aid, this is essentially how I was picturing Charlie through 90% of this fic:  
> 


End file.
